


As her father promised

by WillowWolf



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-17
Updated: 2014-06-17
Packaged: 2018-02-05 01:45:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1800886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WillowWolf/pseuds/WillowWolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sansa considers her wedding in the north.</p>
            </blockquote>





	As her father promised

**Author's Note:**

> A line popped into my head last night and so I typed it out on my phone and it turned into a one-shot. Typing something of length on a cellphone is not fun, so I hope you like it!

_In time they will learn to love._ That's what her ladies maid had said. What her mother might have said. She looks upon him, this shy solemn husband they have given her. He who will hardly look her in the eye, he will not speak to her. Though not, it would seem, because he does not wish to. Perhaps because he does not know how.   
They say their vows, and sit their feast. It is a humble gathering, in Winterfells halls. Not what she may have wished when she was younger, and more naive, but more than enough for the woman she has become. When she asks him if they might dance, he humbly obliges. His hand tentatively taking hers, and his hand resting ever so lightly upon her waist. Yet he is distant.   
Then when they are taken to their room, and meant to see to their task as husband and wife, he looks bashful. As though he regrets that custom dictate he _force_ himself on her. For that is how, she can tell, he sees it. But it is not so, and she does not mind. Not truly.   
His hands are rough and calloused from hard labor, and battles fought. But he is strong, and reminds her of the north. She welcomes him into her arms, shy as she might feel to have him touch her... To have him look upon her without her silks or wools to hide her. He blows out the candles, leaving only the fire to cast a gentle glow upon them. She realizes than, that he is comely though others may not agree. She will not mind bearing his children, for they will look like her family, like Starks.   
Even if he never manages to say words to her, she thinks, she could do worse than this man. Then, as he comes to her in the bed, there is something else. A look in his eye that says all the things his mouth will not. When he kisses her, hesitantly and gently at first, she finds that he desires her. Propriety is soon abandoned as she realizes that he is all she has yearned for. That he is brave, and gentle, and true. That he will love her, in his way. And not just because she is the daughter of a powerful house.   
As they fall asleep that night, exhausted from their lovemaking, he takes her in his arms and she knows... And is at peace. And it would seem, she thinks, as she feels him inhale her scent and draws her ever tighter to him, so is he.   
He sighs, and whispers his first words to her since he came north, and the only words she could ever wish to hear.   
_"little bird..."_ he murmurs, his voice as hard as steel on stone. "I love you."


End file.
